---

The Moon is the Capital of the World

“What is the capital of the world?” my daughter asks.
“The moon is the capital of the world,” I say.

It makes sense.
There is no city on earth that could be the capital of the world.

Not New York City. Not London. Not Paris. Not Beijing. Not Tokyo.
Only the moon could be the capital of the world.

From there you could see the whole world.
That is what a capital of the world is for.

It is for seeing the whole world.
For seeing the world whole.

Warts and all.
Wars and all.

---

The Lady of the News

Every night I watch the lady of the news.
I do not like the news.
But I like her.
There is nothing to like about the news.
The news is all bad.
Every night the news is all bad.
But I like the lady of the news.
She does not have blonde hair.
She has black hair.
She does not have blue eyes.
She has black eyes.
She does not have fair skin.
She has dark skin.
She is not pretty that way that pretty is.
She is beautiful the way that beautiful is.
The news is neither pretty nor beautiful.
The news is ugly.
But I like to watch the lady of the news.
I like her voice.
Her voice is not pretty.
Her voice is beautiful.
Her voice delivers the ugly news beautifully.
If one must listen to bad news, this is the way to do it.

---

The Insane Words Are The Same Words As The Sane Words

This is worthy of further study.
I should have saved that line for last.
This is not a problem.
I will repeat it at the end.
It all depends on who utters them.
It all depends on who thinks them.
It all depends on who dreams them up.
It all depends on who sings them.
It all depends on who writes them in the diary.
It all depends on who rhymes them.
It all depends on who plagiarizes them.
It all depends on who memorizes them.
It all depends on who shouts them.
It all depends on who scrawls them on walls.
This is worthy of further study.

---

There Was Supposed To Be A Storm

There was supposed to be a storm.
There was supposed to be thunder.
There was supposed to be lightning.
There was supposed to be rain.
There were supposed to be high winds.
Instead there was sunshine.
Instead there was blue sky.
Instead there was only a cloud or two.
Instead there were gentle breezes.
We all make mistakes.
We all swallow our pride.
Swallowing our pride is so much better than chewing our pride.
Pride does not taste good,
Pride is bitter.
Pride is sour.
Pride tastes like shit.

---

The Beauty Of Extinction

They do not know, of course.
They do not know they are becoming extinct.
The inspects.
The amphibians.
The reptiles.
The fish.
The birds.
The mammals.
None of them know what's happening to them.
None of them know extinction is happening to them.
None of them know one of them will be the last one of them.
The last one will not know it is the last one of them.
Only we will know.
Only we will know how beautiful it will be to be extinct.
No, to be extinguished.
Yes, to be extinguished.
Only we will know how brief is the anguish.
Only we will know how beautiful to be extinguished.